I laugh and shake my head. “We love you more than anything and we’ll make sure to show it, through the big stuff right now and the little stuff later. You’ll never forget, Bambina.”
SOPHIA
Ilay in bed trying to double-check that I have everything packed in my bags that I could possibly need. I have so many different kinds of clothes in there, for every kind of weather that could possibly come up. I have plenty of lingerie, and plenty of shoes, I even packed my favorite pillow and a sweatshirt that I stole from Holden.
I have a bunch of jewelry on top of what I have planned for my wedding day. I even have the bands for the guys. I’ve managed to get some vows written too. All good things. I think talking with Roman and knowing that he’s stuck in a few ways, unsure, and needing advice helped more than anything.
He’s always been so put together. He so rarely shows any kind of hesitation, any kind of self-doubt that I just assumed he never had it. Our conversation in Hawaii was one thing, but him telling me he felt overwhelmed, that he felt like life was passing him by, and he wasn’t as sure about his career or future as I’d assumed he was, made me feel more validated. More like an adult.
I roll in bed, then glare at the empty spot in my bed. Roman and I technically broke a rule. We had sex within the two weeks window before the wedding, but I can’t make myself care about that.
Not when I hate sleeping alone.
It’s so much harder to feel secure and so much harder to fall asleep quickly when I’m all alone. They’ve spoiled me with their attention, with the fact that they’re more often against me, with me, touching me than not.
Groaning, I open my phone and text Holden.
Sophie: You up?
Holden: Is this a booty call?
I laugh and get up, walking to his office. He’s stretched out on the couch reading. I’ve learned he only goes to his room to sleep or for sex. Everything else goes on outside of it. He says it makes for better sleeping, but I disagree considering my own issues.
Holden sets his book to the side – something about international economics then opens his arms to me. I settle against him and hum happily.
“Not a booty call,” I murmur.
“Good, because that’s against the rules.” He still presses his face to my hair and rubs my back. “All packed and ready?”
“More ready to marry you.” I lift my face and his lips mold to mine.
I kiss him slow and soft, my tongue teasing him with gentle strokes until he groans and tightens his hand in my hair. “You’re going to get me all worked up.”
“I can’t sleep,” I explain, rubbing his chest through his thin shirt. “I don’t like being in bed alone.”
“Just another week.” He promises. “Then no one will ask you to sleep by yourself.”
“Unless you’re mad at me.” I huff.
He chuckles and kisses my temple. “I don’t think there’s ever been a time where all four of us are mad at you in one day let alone at the same time.”
“Yet,” I grumble.
Holden keeps playing with my hair and rubbing my back. “Anything you’re worried about?”
“Not right now. Roman’s picking up the marriage certificate tomorrow before we leave. We have almost everyone RSVPed. Venues are set, the dress is fixed, and everything is checked off the list.”
“You got the song for our dance?” Holden asks. “I’m curious.”
“Come Away With Me by Nora Jones,” I answer, then scroll through my phone to select it on Spotify.
Holden smiles down at me and kisses my forehead. “It’s perfect.”
“Good, because I love cuddling you and how safe you make me feel. All the adventures we go on, the way you’re soft and tender with me, just like the music.” I squeeze him. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, Sophie.” He promises, kissing me softly. “Everything is going to go fine at the wedding.”
“Are you sure?”